


This Is The Future

by sparklylulz (sparklyulz)



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Post Mockingjay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-16
Updated: 2011-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-02 12:38:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklyulz/pseuds/sparklylulz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I will never feel trapped as long as I get to be with you." Peeta always had a way with words, they infect your heart and make you love him without even trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is The Future

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this several months ago, but tweaked it a little. I definitely have no ownership over THG or Owl City's music.

> _'Dive in and swim away from your loneliness and miserable days.  
>  And when you wake up on your own, look around you 'cause you're not alone.  
>  Let your hopes go and they'll survive, 'cause this is the future and you are alive...  
> _
> 
>  _...you're headed home'_

It is dark outside when my body jerks awake, the spasms of another nightmare still coursing through my veins, burning like the fire I've just been dreaming of. It takes a few moments to register where I am and who the warm arms that engulf me belong to. Peeta. I am reminded of those nights so many years ago on a terrifying train ride when only Peeta's warm embrace could calm the swell of panic in my heart.

His skin is warm against my own; since his time in the Capitol's prison he's always run a little warmer than he once might have. If that is the only change I had to accept with getting him back, I would take it a thousand times over. There is no fabric separating his broad chest from my own pale skin, because Peeta and I are one now, but I think we always were.

I look to where he is looking at me, trying to tell myself to  _just breathe_ because repetitiveness is all that gets me through some days. His side of the bed sags lower than my own and I am thankful for it. I spent most of my life sharing my bed with Prim and when I came home to an empty house it felt wrong to sleep in such a large bed unaccompanied.

"I was burning again, watching Cinna dress Prim in my dress from our first Hunger Games, except it was her that was on fire." I say quickly, but the embarrassment that had once lined these confessions is no longer there. Peeta is used to hearing my nightmares and though he might not say it as often, he has them every night also.

His fingers brush a piece of hair from my face and he looks at me with an expression I remember from a dark cave; the expression that causes something to stir within me, but I know what that feeling is now. I love Peeta more than anything else in the world now, but some days Haymitch's words, " _You know, you could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him,_ " creep into my mind and I remind myself how it felt all those months I was without him in District 13.

"Do you think they'll ever stop- the dreams?" I ask, looking up into his stunning blue eyes, watching his head shake.

"No, but I think that someday they'll be more dull. Grayer." I smile at this; gray like everything in District 12 once had been, it seems a fitting description. I push myself further into the warmth of his body and his lips find my temple.

My fingers run across his forearms, across all the scars whether from the Games, his torture, or the rebellion and for a moment I am sure he could never be more beautiful to me. I push my head up to look at him before I close the gap between us. His lips are calm against the urgency in my own, Peeta is like an anchor that keeps me here in reality.

"Sometimes I'm afraid I will never be able to escape this feeling of constantly being trapped." I voice honestly, the panic creeping into my tone without my permission. I feel brave for admitting this and pause for a moment to realize that Peeta has always been what made me brave.

Peeta is my constant peak of sunshine on even the bleakest days, his kind voice speaks to me in waves of calm, "You know what I do when I feel it?" His question causes me to pull back in order to look him in the face. I shake my head to signal that I want him to keep going.

"I look at you, Katniss." He breathes quietly into the still room for only me to hear, "Because I meant it when I told you that you were my whole life. I will never feel trapped as long as I get to be with you." Peeta always had a way with words, they infect your heart and make you love him without even trying.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but I can't contain the tear that falls onto his arm. "I wish you never had suffered for me. What they did to you-" I am cut off by a soft sob, but he just strokes my hair as a sign of comfort.

"I don't hate them for what they did to me." He speaks after a few minutes of my quiet sobs and when I look up it's in shock. How could he not hate the people who took his life away and scarred him beyond repair?

"They gave me something more precious than I had ever been given before that." Peeta's eyes catch my own tearstained expression and he continues, "They gave me the chance to fall in love with you all over again." His words do not stumble but there's a reservation in his voice when he let's them out, like a weight has suddenly been lifted from his chest.

This was why Gale and I could have never been more than what we were, even if I had never participated in the Games. Gale, who remained silent, always relying on my ability to understand his actions. I could have never loved Gale as much as he would have deserved; in all honesty, I don't think that I could have ever loved anyone more than Peeta. Well, I still love Prim with all of my heart, but she would have wanted me to share that love with someone else.

"If I asked, you'll agree to marry me: Real or not real?" His soft tone surprises me and look up startled at his expression of total adoration and hope. My eternal yellow flower.

"Real." I whisper back, a small smile lining my lips at his own surprised expression.

"Always." He sighs, forehead pressed against my own.

And I know that he means it and maybe some day I can be as close to whole again as possible, just as long as he's there to hold my hand like the first night in that chariot.


End file.
